


The Might of His Strength

by Dancingsalome



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001), The Mummy Series
Genre: Abduction, Anal Sex, Angst, Captivity, Dark, F/M, Magic, Magic Made Them Do It, Multi, Rough Sex, Sex Magic, Vaginal Sex, Violence, magical coercion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-02-24 22:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22005622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingsalome/pseuds/Dancingsalome
Summary: Five years after Imhotep's second defeat, Evy is suddenly kidnapped. Imhotep resurrected have new plans for her, and this time rescue seems very far away.
Relationships: Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Rick O'Connell, Imhotep/Evy Carnahan O'Connell, Imhotep/Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Ardeth Bay
Comments: 109
Kudos: 153





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wiccy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiccy/gifts).



> Dear, Wiccy,
> 
> You may be a little surprised being gifted a fic just like that, but this was originally intended to be a Yuletide treat if not two things had happened. First, that this is turning into a multi-chapter and I could never write it all before Yuletide’s deadline. And two; I realise necromancy is one of your unwanted tropes, and I started to wonder if not resurrecting mummies would be counted as that. This fic contains mummy resurrection in chapter 2, and I totally understand if you don’t care about it. But I would not have gotten the idea for this fic if I had not read your letter.
> 
> Tags are likely to be expanded as the fic continues.
> 
> The title is a paraphrase of a line in _Book of the Dead_ : _The might of my strength is within my hand, I am not known by you, but I am he who knows you. I cannot be held in the hand, but I am he who can hold you in his hand._

The kidnappers came when Evie was home alone. Rick had departed for the weekend for a fishing trip in Scotland, accompanied by Alex, who had moaned about it because he was thirteen, and Jonathan who moaned because he was, well, Jonathan. Evy had enjoyed a whole day of luxurious solitude, and danger was very far from her mind. Life had been rather calm the past few years, after all. Rick phoned in the early evening to say they had arrived safely and see you on Monday, and everyone sent kisses. Evy put down the receiver, smiling, and then someone grabbed her from behind, and before she had time to react the world went black.

She woke up on a narrow bed in a small room. After a minute or two she realised she was in a cabin on a ship which was moving. She sat up, gingerly touching a tender bump on her head. Apart from a headache, she didn’t seem to be injured. The cabin was very tiny, there was not even a porthole, and no other furniture than her bunk, and a table and a chair bolted to the floor. On the floor stood one of her suitcases, and when Evy opened it, she found a few toiletries and clothes tossed into it. The only comfort was a minuscule lavatory. The door out was, of course, locked. Evy hammered on it and yelled, with no result, and when she tried to pry open the lock, but without success. After that, there was nothing else to do but to wait. After a fairly long time, the door opened and two men appeared. One of them was carrying a tray with food and drink he placed on the table. the other hand pointed a gun at her. None of them answered her questions or said anything else.

The next days were dreary. Evy was scared and worried about her family, but the monotony of her imprisonment soon took the edge of her fear. Three times, at what she supposed was a day, they gave her food, which was neither particularly pleasant nor foul. Most likely she ate the same food as the crew. The guards never spoke to her, no matter what she said.

“You could at least give me something to read” Evy screamed the fourth time her door was unlocked, but the guards only looked at her blankly, and did not respond.

With nothing else to occupy her mind, she thought of what would happen to her. There was, she felt, only one place they were going; Egypt. It was always Egypt, wasn’t it? Besides, the guards seemed to be an even mix of white men and men who looked Egyptian to her. Most likely, she decided, some of Imhotep’s minions who still held a grudge had kidnapped her. But why they hadn’t just killed her, she could not answer. Instead, they had come for her when no one would miss her for days, and when Rick and Jonathan were far away.

Time dragged on, day after day passed, and Evy passed the hours the best she could. She broke all her hairpins when she tried to pick her lock, and then she destroyed her forks for the same purpose. The only thing she achieved was to have her fork privileges revoked and had to eat with a spoon instead. She rearranged the chaos in her suitcases and found a forgotten traveling brochure, which she memorized, then used it to make paper glides and arranged tournaments for them. She recited every poem and sang every song she knew, and she continued to talk to her guards, even if they never answered her. And she carefully washed her underwear and stockings in the small sink. It was all terribly dull and Evy felt she would be happy if anything happened, even if it was something dreadful, to break the monotony.

Then, after about a fortnight, something finally happened. Still, without being spoken to, and still by gunpoint, she was brought up on deck. It was night, and Evy didn’t need to do more than look at the starry sky and take a deep breath to know she had predicted her destination correctly. It was Egypt, her second homeland, and despite her dreary situation, she felt a jolt a gladness of being back. 

But she wasn’t given much time to enjoy the fresh air. She was brought ashore and bundled into the back of a truck, and taken to a long and very bumpy ride. Then, after an eternity the truck finally stopped, the door opened, and Evy found herself in a walled courtyard. There she was met by a spare middle-aged man who presented himself as Mr. Smith. A small smile only answered Evy’s torrents of questions. A nasty smile, Evy thought; not one which boded well for her.

“My husband and my friends are looking for me, and when they find me, you’ll be sorry.”

“Oh, I have it on good authority Mr. O’Connell is leaving no stone unturned in his search for you. Unfortunately, he still thinks you are in London, and by the time he realises you are not there, it will be too late. As for your friend Ardeth Bay, well, he will not come to your aid either.”

“Well, what? What has happened to Ardeth?”

But Mr. Smith only said she would find out tomorrow; for now, she needed her rest.

The room Evy was brought to was, at least, better than the cabin. It was a little larger and had a window opening out to the courtyard to provide fresh air, albeit with heavy bars to prevent any escape. There was also a bathroom with a sizeable bathtub, and enough hot water for a long, and much-appreciated bath. There was also a very good cup of tea accompanied by sandwiches which were a vast improvement over the food on the ship.

Evy stood for a long time at the window, looking at the night sky and wondering what the next day would bring. Whatever it was, it could not be something good.


	2. Chapter 2

One of the things Evy had learned from her adventures was the ability to sleep soundly, no matter what. This night was no exception, but she woke up early. While she waited for something to happen she stood by her window, watching servants and guards moving on the yard below. She had seen little of the house when she had arrived last night, but now she realised it must be large; more a palace than a house.

A silent servant brought her breakfast, and then there was more waiting until Mr. Smith finally returned, followed by a servant carrying a gown and a basket filled with beauty products and jewelry.

Evy crossed her arms and raised her chin. “Time to gild the sacrificial lamb?” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Evy suddenly lost her patience despite her precarious situation. “It wasn’t especially hard to figure out that you are going to wake up Imhotep and I’m supposed to be a sacrifice. You aren’t especially original, you know.”

Mr. Smith looked a little irritated. “And by rights, you should be dead several times over. I funded Meela Nais in her search for her lost love, and I found her a remarkable woman. She should be given a new chance.”

“Funny, I only thought she was remarkably unpleasant and got exactly what she deserved.”

Mr. Smith glared at her but left the subject of Meela. “You are to get dressed and make yourself presentable within an hour.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll have my guards strip, bathe and clothe you. The result would probably not be as fetching as if you did it yourself, and you will not enjoy it, but it will happen with your cooperation, or not.

Evy snatched the gown from his hand. “Fine. I do it myself.”

The dress was made of white silk in a style that looked like a Hollywood dream of the fashion of ancient Egypt. It was still very pretty, and the jewelry was real Egyptian antiques. Clearly she was meant to die looking gorgeous. Evy shrugged; she could live with that. 

Evy was ready when Mr. Smith returned with the perpetually silent guards, and she was brought to a large chamber, well lit by torches. Evy’s eyes went straight to the two biers placed in the middle of the room. They were covered with cloths of gold, but it was not difficult to make out the emaciated bodies underneath, and Evy shuddered.

Mr. Smith looked around the chamber with pride. “What do you think? I spared no expenses.”

Evy managed to tear her eyes away from the biers. The walls and pillars were decorated in the style of an Egyptian temple, glimmering with gold and sparkling colours. It was very opulent, lavish and-

“It’s all wrong! You have mixed, what, three different time periods? Four? It’s a complete mishmash. Horrible! And haven’t you thought at all about the meaning of those hieroglyphs? Cartouches should only be around royal names. They are placed all wrong, too. You didn’t consider consulting a real Egyptologist before you started? Or was that expense something you couldn’t afford?”

Mr. Smith’s face darkened. “Gag and bind her.”

The guards dragged Evy to one of the pillars where her arms were stretched uncomfortably over her head and her hands bound to a metal ring. With the gag in place, Evy was silenced, but she could still think. Mr. Smith might be rich and determined, but she thought he was a dilettante with no real knowledge of what he was doing. And he seemed more interested in Meela than Imhotep. Did he really understand what the high priest was, and what he could do? Evy had a nagging feeling Mr. Smith didn’t have a clue. He definitely didn’t know what had happened in the last chaotic moments before both Imhotep and Meela died.

Mr. Smith, who had watched her with some satisfaction, now spoke to her again. “I have a little surprise for you, Mrs. O’Connell.”

More guards entered the chamber, holding a man bound in chains between them, and Evy found out what Mr. Smith had meant about Ardeth. Her friend looked more dishevelled than she had ever seen him before and his eyes looked wild, and when he saw Evy he made a desperate attempt to break free to no avail. He was forced to kneel, and the guards chained his hands to the floor so he could not stand up.

Evy’s heart sank at the sight and her dismay must have shown as Mr. Smith looked even more pleased. 

“Your husband, predictably, sent a message to his old friend when he found you missing. I took the precaution to make sure it reached Ardeth Bay in a timely fashion. And your Medjai warrior was so distracted by the news he walked straight into a trap of my own devising before he knew what happened. You have a strange attraction to men, Mrs. O’Connell to make them behave so foolishly. Now you will both know he will die tonight because of you.”

Evy felt an unfamiliar stab of hopelessness. With Rick and Jonathan looking for her in the wrong places, and Ardeth as helpless and she was, there was no one left to come to the rescue. She had always been saved at the last minute, but what was there to do when there was no one left to do the saving? A sob rose in her throat, but then she resolutely swallowed it down. She wasn’t dead yet, and a lot could happen before that. As long as she didn’t have a knife buried in her chest, she would not submit to despair.

Four men entered the room from a doorway on the opposite side of the room, carrying a familiar canopic chest with them. They all looked like the average Egyptian worker, and Evy guessed they didn’t know what was really happening. Probably paid to open the ancient chest and then to carry it into this chamber without knowing what it meant, or that they would soon be dead. Their surprised yells when they were seized and bound told Evy she had guessed correctly.

Mr. Smith went to one of the biers and removed the cloth, revealing the horrifying remains of Imhotep. He then proceeded to ceremoniously open a book Evy recognised as well. He read slowly, mispronouncing so many words Evy hoped he would mangle the ceremony so much he wouldn’t be able to make the spell work. But she hoped in vain. The corpse stirred and then rose. Evy had dreamt nightmares of Imhotep being resurrected; now she had to live through it again. And despite having seen it before, the horror wasn’t diminished. Imhotep screamed, a sound more from pain than in joy of being awake again, and he lurched up, turning menacingly towards the man who had awakened him. Mr. Smith spoke quickly, his voice trembling, and to Evy’s profound disappointment Imhotep didn’t attack him. Guided by Mr. Smith, Imhotep turned to the bound men instead.

Evy closed her eyes when he reached them. She still had to endure their terrified screams, but she didn’t need to watch as Imhotep drained them of life. They had family and friends too who loved them; people who would never know what happened to them.

Then there was a sudden silence, Ardeth made a sharp intake of breath, and Evy looked up. There, at the other side of the chamber, Imhotep was standing with his back to her, but then he turned, and, even if she knew him, she felt a slight shock at seeing him restored to vigorous health again. Once, when she first saw him whole, her unbidden reaction was to find him gorgeous. Even more unwanted now she could not help thinking the same.

Then their eyes met, and from across the room she heard his voice;

“My princess.”


	3. Chapter 3

Imhotep walked towards Evy, only to pause and frown at Mr. Smith, who rather anxiously was hovering at his elbow with a black cloak. Imhotep allowed himself to be robed, and Mr. Smith looked relieved. Evy, despite her situation, felt a small malicious joy that the man found the sight of ancient naked Egyptians disconcerting. But then Imhotep reached her, and she forgot everything else in a wave of fear, and a sense of strange awe.

Somehow Imhotep fully resurrected seemed so much more alive than anyone else in the room, and when he focused on Evy, it felt like the world only contained the two of them. She pressed her back against the pillar as her body tried to escape, ignoring the fact it was impossible to do. He ran his finger up her bare arms, and she shivered. The rope around her wrists grew slacker, even if she was still bound, but the strain of her arms and shoulder lessened. Then he removed the gag, and Evy spoke despite her dry mouth.

“I will not beg.”

He smiled at her. “I would not expect you to.”

Then he turned to look at Ardeth, and Evy could breathe a little easier, only to tense up again as his attention was now on the chained man. Ardeth straightened as much as he could and looked as regal as Imhotep, who bent his head slightly in greeting.

“Medjai.”

“Creature.”

“It suits you to kneel in front of me.”

Mr. Smith presented Imhotep with a dagger, but if he thought Imhotep would slay Ardeth then and there, he didn’t get his wish. Imhotep took the knife but merely asked. 

“Where is her other warrior?”

After a pause, when Mr. Smith struggled to form the correct words, he managed a reply. “He is far away, searching for his wife where they live.”

“You have left him alive? An unwise decision.”

“A cowardly decision.” Evy spat out. “He didn’t dare to attack me until Rick was far away.”

Mr. Smith tried to answer, but Imhotep ignored him and walked to Meela’s bier instead. For a moment he thoughtfully regarded it before he removed the fabric to reveal the body underneath. To Evy, Meela looked even more horrible than Imhotep had. She had seen many mummies, both artfully preserved or just dried out in desert sand, but she had never seen one dressed in the remnants of modern clothing before, and somehow this made it so much worse.

Imhotep raised the dagger and started to chant. At first, nothing happened, then Meela stirred, then sat up, turning her face towards Evy. Ruined as it was, still held the vestiges of beauty, with long black hair clinging to the scalp. The mouth curved into a horrendous parody of a smile, and then she stood up and walked towards Evy with Imhotep close behind. Meela swayed and lurched, and despite her ravaged features, Evy could still see malicious glee in it. 

Evy wanted to look away, to close off even this horror, but she willed herself to stare at her death as it approached her. She knew what was coming next. There would be pain when the knife went into her body, but first, the sound would come. The sickening grating of steel cutting through skin and flesh, and only then the pain would come and the shock of knowing it was your body which had been pierced, your death which was coming. Evy remembered it too well, having lived through it in countless nightmares since Meela had killed her in Ahm Shere.

But when the sound came, Meela and Imhotep were still several steps from her. Meela suddenly froze, her mouth opening in surprise as Imhotep plunged the dagger into her back. When Imhotep pulled out the dagger, she fell to her knees, and to Evy’s complete surprise he slit Meel’s throat with such force he nearly severed her head. 

“You will betray me no more.”

There was no emotion in his voice, but when he looked at Evy, she could see his eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“Why did he do that?” Mr. Smith screamed in English. “He can’t do that!”

Evy fought a strange urge to laugh. “It didn’t go so well, did it? You should have done your research better. He sacrificed everything for her, and she left him to die. I don’t think he forgave her.”

The ropes around her wrists suddenly loosened, and Evy, unprepared, would have fallen if Imhotep hadn't caught her. She tried to wrench out of his arms, but the embrace was too tight, and she was forced to look up at him. 

“You possess wisdom and beauty, Princess. Your heart is true, and I chose you to be my consort.”

“My heart doesn’t belong to you.”

“Not yet.”

“No!” Mr. Smith interrupted. “She’s supposed to die. You can’t-”

Imhotep flung out an arm, and Mr. Smith was suddenly elevated in the air, his feet dangling several feet above the floor.

“What say you, my wise Princess. Who is this man to me? Does he think he can dictate my actions?”

“I believe so. He is a fool.”

“I thought so.”

For a moment or two, Mr. Smith hung in the air, too surprised to speak, and then, with a tiny flick of Imhotep’s hand, his head twisted sharply to the side and he crumpled on the floor with his neck broken. The guards raised their weapons, but Imhotep only made another gesture, and they, as one man, sank down on one knee in front of him.

Despite all the horror and death around her, a tiny part of Evy’s brain couldn’t help notice that the spell of thralldom Imhotep had cast over the guards included an understanding of ancient Egyptian. Imhotep, still with an arm around her, addressed the kneeling men.

“This woman is now your Queen. Give her the best room in this house, and everything she wishes.” Imhotep gave Evy an amused glance, and added, “Except letting her leave her quarters.”

“And what about Ardeth? What are you going to do to him?”

“His life is important to you?”

“Yes.”

“Very well; he will live. And now you will rest, and I will come to you later.”

And with those words, Evy was handed over to two of the guards to be taken to her new prison.


	4. Chapter 4

Evy’s new prison was far more luxurious than her previous one. It was an apartment consisting of several spacious rooms opening out to a small walled garden. Evy sat down on a sofa, suddenly exhausted. For a moment her longing for her family threatened to overcome her, but she pushed it away. She wanted so badly to be with them, but to succumb to her feelings would not help her now. Better to focus on how to get back to them than spend futile time wallowing in her misery. She watched a flurry of servants packing away clothes and trinkets and she realised these were the rooms meant for Meela, and now they were hastily prepared for another occupant. A meal was served which she listlessly picked at, then the stream of servants trickled away, and she was left alone. 

The first thing Evy did was to explore the garden to see if it could offer a way to escape. But the walls were far too high to climb, and the only way out, apart from through her rooms, was a small door for the gardeners to pass through. Evy tried the handle with little hope and found it, without surprise, locked. But she remained in the garden; it was a relief to be outside after so many days locked inside tiny rooms. The trees and flowers soothed her frazzled nerves, and Evy sat down on a bench. A servant emerged, bringing her strong sweet coffee, and the taste of sugary bitterness brought back some of her spirit.

The last hours had been filled with fear and death, Imhotep hadn’t been resurrected for more than a few hours and five people were already dead. Six with Meela. Try as she might, Evy could not feel very sorry for Mr. Smith, but though she had no warm feelings for Meela, the way she had been brought back only to be killed had been horrible. And then there were the nameless men who had died in fear and panic, undeserving of their fate. But, despite everything, Evy herself was still alive. And somewhere in the palace, Ardeth was still breathing too, though why Imhotep had been willing to spare his life she didn’t understand. Even if their situation was still bleak, it was not beyond hope.

Evy sat in the garden for hours, watching the sky above her darken into the early evening. It was beautiful, but she still felt something was wrong with it, even though she could not understand why. No one disturbed her until a slight noise made her look toward the now well-lit rooms and saw the silhouette of Imhotep standing in the doorway. Evie rose and went to him. She would not run around the garden like a trapped mouse until she was caught and dragged back; better to meet what he had planned for her with dignity.

Imhotep waited until she had reached him before he greeted her. “Princess.”

“I’m not a princess.” And then, because she was suddenly unsure he had ever bothered to learn it, she added. “My name is Evelyn.”

“Evelyn,” he repeated. “It’s a strange name, but it makes you no less a princess. It’s your birthright.” 

Imhotep took her right hand and turned it so the blue veins on the underside of the wrist became visible. He traced them with a finger. “It’s running in your blood; from daughter to daughter in an unbroken line from Nefertiri, to you. I can feel it. You were always meant for me.”

“Why do you bother with lies? You didn’t love me then; you don’t love me now.”

“It’s true I never loved you, but you were the Pharaoh’s daughter. Once I would have married you and the throne of Egypt would have been mine. Your beauty and brightness made you a fair price, then as now. And you freed me from an eternity of torment, and for that, I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“And what would Anck Su Namun have said about such plans?”

His face darkened at the mention of her name. “She knew. Our thoughts and desires were always the same.“

“I see.” Despite her situation, Evy couldn’t help a note of sarcasm creeping into her voice. “I should have guessed it at once that it was admiration which made you try to kill me over and over again.”

“You don’t understand. I never wanted your death; I needed it. You were the only woman who could have brought Anck Su Namun back to me because your death would have grieved me. A sacrifice without meaning is not a sacrifice. To please the gods, you have to give up what you can’t bear to part with. You have to offer as much as you wish to receive.”

Evy wanted to disbelieve him, but somehow she felt Imhotep was speaking the truth. She had, despite everything he had tried to do to her, felt no real animosity from him. And his interest in her would explain Anck Su Namun’s hatred toward Nefertiri, and, in present days, Meela’s against her. You didn’t have to love a person to value them. There could be gratitude, as he had just said, admiration and lust. Yes, she was sure there had always been desire, and that would surely have made Anck Su Namun jealous. 

Evy suddenly realised he was still holding her hand and tried to snatch it back, but Imhotep didn’t let go. 

“My words displease you, Princess. But you have always belonged to me, and mine you will remain.”

“No! When Rick comes-”

“He will die. And then you will learn what I have learned; love only brings you pain.”

“No,” Evy said again, but Imhotep only smiled. Still holding her hand, he led her into the room and to a small table where a short sharp knife had been placed beside a small bracelet. It was a slender armlet; a plain ring of polished grey stone. But it was old, Evy knew by sight, as old as Imhotep, or even thousands of years older. Simple and unassuming at first glance, but if one considered how primitive the tools had been to perfect this smooth circle of flint, then it wasn’t so simple anymore.

Imhotep said something in a soft voice; some kind of incantation, Evy didn’t understand. Then, before she had time to react, he took the knife and cut one of her fingertips. A drop of blood fell on the armlet, glistening on the surface for a moment, but then it disappeared as if the stone had absorbed it. Imhotep spoke again, this time cutting his own finger and as before the blood disappeared as if it had never been there. He picked up the armlet, taking Evy’s hand again and slipped it on. Full of misgivings, she tried to twist away, despite the strength of his grip, but to no avail. Imhotep said a few more words, closing his hand around her wrist, completely engulfing the armlet. It suddenly felt hot against Evy’s skin, the heat spreading through her body like a wave, and then it was gone. Imhotep let go of her and Evy immediately tried to remove the bracelet. But despite how easily it had slipped on, it was now impossible to take off.

“What did you do?”

“Bound you to me. This will never leave your arm if I don’t permit it. And as long as you wear it, my fate is also yours. If I die, so do you. When your warrior comes, he cannot fight me. He loves you too much, and his love makes him weak.”

He touched her cheek, and Evy looked up at him. “And when you try to run away, which you will, know this link I have forged between us will always lead me to you.”

“Shackling me with spells doesn’t make me your property.”

“You will never be a slave. You are a treasure beyond compare.”

“If you think you can flatter me, you are wrong. You disgust me.”

Imhotep stood closer to her now, towering above her. His perfume whirled around her, a scent filled with spice and resins. Evy had felt the faint echoes like it before in the remains of ancient balms found in tombs. Those faint traces had been like forgotten dreams; a tantalizing glimpse of a lost world. But here it was filled with vitality and sensuousness, sidestepping Evy’s fear and revulsion and making her breathless with a flash of yearning as unexpected as it was unwelcome. She gasped and turned away, but Imhotep’s arms were around her now; a hand in her hair forced her face up to his.

He had kissed her before; a nightmarish kiss with his lips rotting against her mouth. She had kissed him before in a desperate attempt to stop him. This kiss was different, his lips warm and firm against hers and overwhelmed Evy answered it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the warnings come into play in this chapter.

The kiss deepened, Imhotep’s hand in her hair loosened its grip, and he let his fingers run down her back. A flare of desire shot through Evy’s body, and then her senses returned to her. She broke the kiss and took a step back, meeting Imhotep’s eyes. He smiled down at her, but there was no warmth in his smile. Not like Rick’s smile, which always made her feel happy. That she would feel any kind of yearning for the man who had only minutes ago threatened to kill her husband was absurd. And yet she had felt it; could still feel it coiling inside her. Evy glanced at the armlet, and then at Imhotep again.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Not much. I’m only making sure you will receive me warmly. I have no wish to hurt you.”

“If that was true you would stop this now. You are already hurting me. Please leave me alone.”

“You should accept your destiny and submit to me.”

“I will never do that willingly. Whatever you do.”

“And yet you have no choice.”

When he reached for her again Evy fought him. The compulsion he had put on her grew stronger as he touched her again, putting her body on fire despite her will. But she could still fight him, to prove to herself, and him, she didn’t want it. Had Imhotep been a normal man she might very well have broken free, but his strength was too much for her, and despite her struggles, he had little trouble dragging her into the bedchamber and throwing her down on the bed. Evy tried to get up, but Imhotep only gestured, and her arms were spread wide, and invisible ropes slithered around her wrist and held her down. Imhotep’s hands skimmed over her body and her clothes fell apart and were discarded.

At the sight of her nakedness, some of Imhotep’s calm deserted him. He looked at her with a hunger which frightened her, and Evy fully expected him to assault her with no more preamble as she was now completely defenseless. Instead, he kissed her, then trailed kisses down her throat, and further below, his lips soft but insisting on her breasts. His teeth grazed her nipples and Evy could feel them harden and become more sensitive. She pressed her thighs together, furiously trying to ignore how every heartbeat pulsing through her body seemed to increase her desire. Imhotep’s touch felt like it scorched her; it felt like it must mark her with its heat. His body, heavy and muscular covered hers, and a knee nudged her legs apart. He was aroused himself now, his hard length pressing against her. Evy expected him to enter her, but he raised himself slightly, his hand skimming the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs, and then she could feel fingers penetrating her, his thumb touching her where she was most sensitive. Evy moaned, trying to twist away from his touch, but somehow she only pressed herself harder against his hand. Imhotep kissed her again, a longer, deeper kiss that made her gasping for air when he released her. The relentless onslaught on her senses drove her nearer and nearer the edge. She tried to fight it, but it felt too good and she was lost, arching her back as she convulsed around his fingers.

Imhotep took her then before the last wave of pleasure had ebbed away. He moved inside her harder and without the tenderness, Rick always showed her. He claimed her body as a conqueror, not as a lover, no matter if he had ensured her pleasure before. And even so, despite the roughness Evy came again before it was over, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Afterward, Imhotep left the bed without a word. Evy’s arms were released, and she curled up into a ball, watching him standing with his back to her, unmoving, looking out of the window. Evy was bone-tired now; the day had been long and filled with unpleasant surprises. But she didn’t want to sleep before she could wash Imhotep from her body. She slipped out of bed, and even if Imhotep must have heard her move, he didn’t acknowledge it.

After washing herself, she paused and looked into the bathroom mirror. What she saw was an Evy with tangled hair and a bruised, hurt look in her eyes Evy didn’t recognised. She touched her lips, swollen from too many unwilling kisses, and almost burst into tears. To stop herself she tried to remove the hateful armet instead, even if she knew it was of no use. She soaped her wrist, trying to ease it over her hand, but it was too tight. Then she banged it against the marble basin, so hard it hurt her. It ought to have shattered; flint was easy to break, but the magic Imhotep had imbued it with had made it impossibly strong. Despite that, Evy smashed it against the basin again and again, heedless of the pain it caused her.

Then Imhotep was there, stopping her arm from another useless blow. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close. He touched her hair in a soothing caress, and Evy looked up at him in anger.

“You have no right to comfort me. No right!” 

But then the tears came anyway, and she wept against Imhotep’s chest while he held her. When her sobs finally ceased, he gently washed her face with a cloth and led her back to the bed. When he lied down beside her Evy tried to push him away, but he ignored her and pulled her close to him. Too tired to fight him anymore, she fell asleep with Imhotep’s arms still around her.


	6. Chapter 6

When she woke up the next morning Imhotep was gone. Evy got out of bed feeling sore and chilled, but after a bath and breakfast she felt much better. It wouldn’t do to succumb to hopelessness, even if she couldn’t see any way out. For now, she sharply told herself, and as if to oblige, her mind revealed what had disturbed her of yesterday’s beautiful evening sky. There had been no sign of blood rain or any of the other plagues which had heralded Imhotep’s return when she had first called him back to life. And though she had been too preoccupied with the kidnapping of Alex to notice the second time, Evy now realised it had not happened then either. Why didn’t the plagues come anymore? She frowned. It must mean something, but what? 

At noon a stream of servants carrying boxes interrupted Evy’s broodings. Her natural inquisitiveness was piqued and when she went to investigate, she found one of her rooms was being converted into a library. While she stood watching as books, scrolls and maps were unpacked, Imhotep joined her.

“Books will please you, I believe. And it will help you teach me about your world.”

“Why should I do that? You can find someone else!”

“I could, but you will.do it.”

“You are very sure of yourself.”

“And you are curious. You will answer my questions because I will have an answer for any you will ask of me.”

He had her there; the opportunity to learn about Egypt three thousand years ago was too tempting. Evy’s visions of Nefertiri’s life had quickly faded after Ahm Shere, and they had always only been glimpses. Imhotep could provide her with a complete narrative, and she could not resist it.

Over the next few days Imhotep devoured the information she could provide with a speed that astonished her, and it didn’t take her long to realise he had absorbed both English and Arabic, though he refused to speak them.

“They are ugly languages without poetry”

As promised Imhotep told her anything she wanted to know about old Egypt. When they both lost themselves in a discussion Evy felt she could have liked him, had circumstances been different. He was both intelligent and charming and she was reminded he had once become a pharaoh’s confidant and advisor on those merits. Sometimes she caught him looking at her with a slight smile when she had become so absorbed by the topic she had forgotten who he was. It would have been easier to hate him if he had been violent, or deliberately cruel towards her. But he was polite, courteous even. It was clear he wanted to please her except for what she wanted the most; freedom for her and Ardeth. And he continued to ignore her protests when he took her to bed, even if he always made sure to satisfy her. Evy got used to falling asleep in his arms, but she didn’t think he ever slept himself. If she woke up at night, he had always left the bed, standing in silence at the window gazing out.

Days passed, then a week. Evy counted and wondered how soon Rick would realise she wasn’t in London anymore. She was sure he would look at Egypt next, but how quickly? Perhaps he was already here, searching for her. Rick would never stop looking, and Evy refused to think he would never find her. He would, one day, the question was; how soon? Evy worried about Ardeth too. She had not seen him since the day Imhotep woke up, and she couldn’t even be sure he was still alive.

“What is happening to Ardeth?” Evy asked one morning, as she had every day, though so far Imhotep had only told her the Medjai was only locked up. For now. This morning Imhotep allowed the subject to expand.

“Such concern. You are worried about him?”

“Of course I am. I don’t believe for a second you let him live to make me happy.”

“You are right, he is not alive just because you wished for it. But you don’t have to fear for your Medjai; I will not kill him. I have other plans.”

“What plans.”

“You will know when the preparations are done.”

With that, Imhotep ended the discussion by the simple means of not answering her questions anymore.

Evy spent as much time as she could in the garden. It was small and confining, but at least she had the open sky above her. But her frustration of being confined grew daily, and she took to walking along the walls in circles, faster and faster. The same day Imhotep had conceded he had plans for Ardeth, he turned up in the garden while Evy paced.

“Come. I have something I need to retrieve. I think you need a change of view.”

To travel within a sandstorm which was really Imhotep was as disconcerting as the first time. Evy closed her eyes firmly and didn’t look until she could feel firm ground under her feet again. They were in the desert, standing in front of a small cluster of cliffs. Evy looked around but could see no signs of other humans. Imhotep raised his arms, causing the sand to rise and swivel around. When he lowered his arms, and the sand settled, Evy could see a building, which had previously been hidden.

“What is this place?”

“A temple for Seshat.”

Safe in the knowledge she had nowhere else to go, Imhotep disappeared into the bowels of the temple for whatever purpose he had come for. Evy followed him slowly. She couldn’t help feeling excited; it was clear the temple had never been excavated, it had rested unknown in the sand since it had been abandoned untold years before.

Imhotep was nowhere to be seen, but in the sanctuary she found a statue of Seshat still standing. The goddess gazed benevolently down on Evy in her peculiar star-shaped headdress and a long palm stem in her hand for recording the passing time. Evy smiled back; she had always felt a kinship with this goddess of knowledge. For some time Evy wandered around the sanctuary, admiring the wall reliefs which had been beautifully preserved. Then she explored chambers, and courts until she grew tired. She returned to the sanctuary where she found Imhotep contemplating Seshat, with something which looked like a cup in his hand. He didn’t seem to notice her, but when Evy came closer he spoke.

“I used to come here to worship with my children. They could be unruly and not always heeding their teachers. A reminder of the importance of learning was sometimes necessary.”

Evy stared at him. “Your children?”

Imhotep turned to her with a peculiar half-smile on his face. “Does that surprise you?”

Evy didn’t know what to say. She had never considered his life before he met Anck-su-namun, but he had been a man in his prime then. It was not so strange he had fathered children.

“I do not know what happened to them. I will never know. I can only hope they were shown some leniency.” He took her arm with unusual roughness. “Come, it’s time to leave.”

He walked out of the temple so fast Evy almost had to run.

When they were back in the garden Imhotep turned to leave without a word, but Evy called out after him. “Did you love your children?”

He answered without turning back to her. “Yes, I did.”

“Then you understand how much I love my son. And how much I fear for him. Say you won’t hurt him!”

“I have no wish to gift you the grief of a child.” Imhotep looked at her over his shoulder. “But I fear he is too much like his father’s son, and I will have no choice.”

Then he left, and for the first time he did not return to her for the night. Evy didn’t sleep much, anyway. She had never really considered how much Imhotep had lost, and she couldn’t help feeling deeply sorry for him. Everyone he had ever known, family and friends, were gone. Thousands of years separated him from them and she wondered if that was one reason he wanted her; she was a connection to the past. Evy thought of Alex and how much she loved and missed him. How unbearable it had been when he had been kidnapped. And then she had least known he was still alive, and filled with hope they would be reunited. Imhotep had no such hope. His children were forever lost in time, and they would never return.


	7. Chapter 7

To Evy’s surprise, she saw nothing of Imhotep for the next two days. On the third, an entire crowd of silent servant girls appeared and Evy found herself the focus of an elaborate beauty preparation. It was no use asking why the thralldom Imhotep had put the servants in, making them instantly ready to obey anything Evy asked of them, but it was impossible to have a proper conversation with them.

So she allowed herself to be bathed and then dressed. The gown was white like the one Mr. Smith had made her wear, but this one was made of pleated linen, so gossamer-thin it was almost transparent. She recognised the style; she had seen it often enough on the walls of temples and tombs. They painted her eyes with kohl and green malachite powder and her lips and cheeks stained with red. Then perfumed oils were worked into her hair, which was left to flow down her back in heavy waves. And last, there was a heavy, beaded collar around her neck, and rings and bracelet for her hands and arms.

But even if Evy didn’t protest, she wondered over the reason for this sudden concern in how she looked. She had been given plenty of beautiful clothes, but they had all been modern, and Imhotep had so far never seemed interested in what she wore. Now the mirror reflected not herself, but the image of a woman long dead, and she wondered why Imhotep, tonight of all nights, wanted her to look like Nefertiri.

When the servants had finished primping her, they brought Evy to the chamber where Mr. Smith had resurrected Imhotep, but she barely recognised it. It was still decorated in the manner of ancient Egypt, but all the kitsch and historical fallacies had been removed. The decorations were simpler, but the result achingly beautiful. But though it was now clearly a temple, there were no statues of any deities, though an altar had been placed at one end of the room. In front of it, Imhotep was standing, and as Evy came closer, she saw he was occupied with the content of various bowls and vials. In the middle stood the cup he had collected at the temple of Seshat. A goblet, really; now when Evy had time to look at it properly, she saw it was made of alabaster, the cup delicately carved into a lotus flower. The brim and foot were decorated with a narrow band of gold, and she could also see hieroglyphs winding around the cup, even if she could not make out what they said. It was a beautiful thing, but Evy frowned anyway. It must have some kind of meaning, but she did not understand what. She watched as Imhotep poured wine into it, then he turned to her and smiled.

“You look exquisite tonight, Princess. Like the sun rising.”

Evy ignored the compliment. “What is the meaning of the goblet? Why did you need it?”

“The goblet will strengthen the essence of anything you drink from it.”

“And what does this wine do?”

“You will find out soon enough.” 

Before Evy could speak again, the door opened and revealed two guards, and between them; Ardeth. Her first reaction was intense joy in seeing him again, but the joy was tempered when she took in the state of him. Not because he looked particularly mistreated, even if his hands were tied in front of him. He had not been allowed a razor, so his neat beard had almost disappeared in stubble, but his hair and clothes were clean. Most of his many layers of clothing had been removed, and he was only clad in a shirt and black linen pants, which made him seem oddly vulnerable. His feet were bare and around an ankle, Evy spotted the red chafing marks of a manacle. She felt a surge of anger; to be locked in and chained must be akin to torture for a man who lived most of his life in the open air.

But though there were dark shadows under Ardeth’s eyes, his stance was defiant. He was not broken and when their eyes met, she could see the same questions in his gaze as she knew her’s asked; “How have you been treated? Are you holding up?”

Imhotep approached Ardeth, but it was Evy he spoke to. “We have had many conversations, your Medjai and I. He will not break his oath and serve me, and I have grown tired of his reluctance.”

He touched Ardeth’s forehead. “You wear my name on your face. You should be my servant, not my enemy.”

“It will never happen!”

“You are wrong. You will serve me, and despite your resistance, I will reward you with what you yearn for the most.”

Ardeth’s eyes flickered to Evy’s face, then back to Imhotep’s. “You know nothing of my desires.”

“I know everything. I know of the loneliness you feel and how it wakes you up at night. How you turn in bed, but the warm body you felt in your dreams is not there, and your arms are empty. And you lay there in the darkness and wonder why she chose him. Are you not a warrior as good as, or even better, than him? Don’t you have the same courage and have you not strived to be a virtuous man all your life? Are you not a man worthy of her?”

Imhotep turned his head and looked at Evy. His words made her feel like she was choking and she wanted to scream at him to be silent; she didn’t want to hear more. The day before she had pitied him, now she felt a surge of hatred. He nodded at her, a small malicious smile on his lips, and she knew he understood what she felt, but he wouldn’t stop. He turned to Ardeth once again.

“And in your darkest hour, you think of what would happen if he died. Men die so easily, after all. You could have her then. She belongs here, to this country which is yours and mine, but he is a stranger. All this you think when your solitude becomes too hard to bear.”

Ardeth’s jaws clenched and his voice was strained. “Who Evy loves was always her choice, and her choice alone.”

“But she has no choices anymore and I will share her with you.”

Ardeth stood straighter. “I do not accept.”

“Oh Medjai, you have no choices left either. My will is your law now.”

Imhotep turned his back to Ardeth and walked back to the altar. As he passed Evy, his smile widened. “You should thank me, my Princess. You have felt lust for this man; now you can enjoy him.

Evy couldn’t help herself, she tried to punch him, but Imhotep easily evaded it. He lifted the goblet and spoke a few words before he drank deeply from it. Then he sprinkled powder from one of the jars into it and held it out to her.

“Drink.”

Evy shook her head and took a step back. His hand shot out too quickly and grasped her throat. It hurt and Evy tried to pry his hand away but to no avail.

“You will drink, willingly or not.”

His grip hardened and eventually, Evy drank. The wine tasted not unpleasantly of spices and it warmed her throat and belly. Imhotep released her, and she stumbled away from him. The warmth inside her seemed to linger; growing instead of fading away.

Imhotep now presented the cup to Ardeth, commanding him to drink as well. When Ardeth refused, the guards forced him down on his knees, Imhotep bending down over him. Evy looked away; she knew Ardeth’s struggle would be in vain and she didn’t want to see it. The heat inside her grew even stronger, and she suddenly had a horrible suspicion of the true nature of the wine in the goblet.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. I find smut very difficult to write- it easily slips into something embarrassing, but I hope I managed to avoid that. Still felt very nervous about this chapter.

Evy turned around to demand an explanation of Imhotep, but she was distracted by Ardeth’s beautiful face. She had always found him handsome, but now it felt like she saw him for the first time, and she couldn’t stop looking at him. The black, lustrous curls framing his face; how she longed to run her fingers through them and see if they were as silken as they looked. And his face, the cheekbones, the proud nose, the sensuous curves of his lips. Evy wanted to kiss them so badly her own mouth seemed to throb at the thought. And his brown eyes, so intelligent and fierce, but also kind. Kind eyes, like Rick’s. The thought of her husband sobered her up, and she turned back to Imhotep.

“What was it in the wine? Some kind of aphrodisiac?”

“For you two, yes.” 

“Make it stop.”

“It can’t be stopped. You have to follow its course to the end and let it burn out.”

Ardeth looked at Imhotep in horror. “No!” 

Evy shook her head in mute protest, but she could feel the heat from the potion working its way through her body, its effect increasing by the minute. This was nothing like the compulsion Imhotep had put on her before. That arousal she knew she could fight if she was left alone; this was something else. This enchantment rose like a flood inside her, engulfing her with need. Her mind could tell her this was not something she wanted, but there was no possibility to withstand it.

Ardeth, still kneeling, struggled to stand and Imhotep bowed down and pulled him up to his feet. Evy couldn’t help admiring the muscles moving on Imhotep’s broad shoulders and back. Then she gasped in shock as Imhotep took Ardeth’s face between his hands and kissed him. Ardeth reeled violently back, his eyes flashing in anger, but there was another fire in them too, and Evy knew he was feeling the same things she did.

“Release him and go,” Imhotep ordered the guards. 

Once freed Ardeth clenched his hands, but he made no move to attack Imhotep, something Evy knew he would have done under normal circumstances. Instead, he looked at her with such longing she couldn’t help but take a few steps closer to him. Imhotep took her hand and pulled her even closer, and she suddenly stood face to face with Ardeth, who lifted his hand to touch her face. It was a gesture of such tenderness Evy could feel her heart constrict.

“Oh Evy,” he whispered into her ear, words for her alone. She found his hand and took it, squeezing it hard, knowing this was the last thing of her free will she would do tonight because now the enchantment swept like a tidal wave through her and she knew she was lost to it.

Evy raised her face to Ardeth, and he kissed her, and she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back. She could feel Imhotep behind her, so close she could feel his arousal pressing into her, his hands caressing her breasts, then pinched her nipples through the sheer fabric of her gown. Too harshly; it hurt and under normal circumstances, Evy would have disliked it, but now it sent spikes of pleasure through her. She could feel the clasps of her gown being undone, and it fell to the floor, pooling around her feet. Ardeth broke the kiss long enough to pull off his shirt, revealing a torso with lean muscles chiseled by fights and riding through the desert. There were tattoos on his body too, and a few battle scars. Evy tried to take a step back to admire him, but between Imhotep and Ardeth there was no room to move much. She leaned back against Imhotep’s chest, tracing her fingertips over the marks on Ardeth’s body, wishing she could hear the stories behind them.

Imhotep pulled her head back by her hair so he could kiss her, and when she was released, Ardeh kissed her again. Evy could feel hands caressing her neck, arms, stomach, then on her breasts and between her legs. She grew dizzy, trying to bestow as many touches as she received.

“You want him?” Imhotep whispered in her ears. Evy’s voice sounded hoarse when she answered.

“Yes.”

“And me too, at the same time?”

Evy wanted to say no but nodded instead. “Yes.”

Imhotep reached out a hand and caressed Ardeth’s cheek. “Don’t worry, my beautiful Medjai. I will have you too before the night ends.”

Ardeth grimaced at his words but leaned into the touch, as helpless as Evy to fight the love potion.

“Come.” Imhotep pointed at a doorway behind the altar, and then took Evy’s arm as she stumbled, unable to make her legs carry her properly. Ardeth followed, still touching her, and Evy responded by tugging at his trousers. They made slow fumbling progress despite the short distance, and when they stepped inside, it wasn’t only Evy who was naked.

The small chamber, the same one Evy realised which must once have held the canopy chest, had been decorated in the same manners as the chamber they just left. The tiny part of Evy’s mind which wasn’t addled by Imhotep’s sorcery noticed how lovely it was. But most of her attention focused on the bed in the middle of the room, and she eagerly allowed herself to be steered towards it. Her limbs didn’t quite want to obey her, and she was further hampered by being so entangled with both Imhotep and Ardeth’s, but somehow Ardeth ended up on his back, and she straddled him. Evy’s hair fell down around their faces as she kissed him, his hands roaming over her body. She could feel Imhotep’s hands around her waist, positioning her so she could sink down on Ardeth’s straining sex. The feeling of him inside was enough stimulation to bring her over the edge, but she didn’t stop moving, raising her hips only to sink down again, Ardeth arched his back underneath her, and Evy rocked against him faster and faster. 

For a moment Evy had forgotten Imhotep’s existence but now she could feel him caressing her back and buttock, his finger, slick with oil finding their way between her cheeks, before slipping inside her. It was a new sensation, bordering on painful, but Evy still pushed back against it, only to be pushed down by Ardeth’s strong grip on her hips to meet his thrusts. When Imhotep removed his fingers, Evy could hear herself mewl in disappointment. Then she could feel his manhood push inside her, large and hard, and this time it hurt. For a moment the pain cut through the enchantment, and Evy struggled against it, but then he drove himself deeper, trapping her between the two men’s bodies. Imhotep kissed her neck, mumbling soothing words, and she relaxed. It was an unfamiliar sensation, this stretching fullness inside her, and though the pain didn’t completely disappear it still transformed into a new kind of pleasure. She came again, her writhing body bringing Ardeth with her, his fingers digging into her waist as if he tried to bring them even close. Imhotep was still moving inside her, thrusting hard before he too found his release. Evy slumped against Ardeth’s chest, heart hammering. For a few brief minutes while she regained her breath she thought it would be over now; surely this would be enough to burn away the effects of the aphrodisiac. But then Ardeth rolled over, and she found herself on the back instead and before she had time to react, he was inside her again, hard and ready. Evy dimly thought it would be a very long night, but then the ardour of Ardeth’s embrace made her own desire flare up again, even stronger than before, and she was lost to passion once more.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it has taken so long to update. 2020 is taking a heavy toll on my ability to concentrate, which, in turn, makes writing very slow.

Evy dreamt she was in bed with Rick, safe in his embrace. Even as she woke up, the feeling of safety lingered, and she turned in the embrace, smiling. And then, still not entirely out of her dream, she slowly became aware something wasn’t right. She opened her eyes to realise it was Ardeth’s arms around her, and everything which had happened the night before came crashing down on her. Evy gasped and tensed, and Ardeth woke up with a start. He was awake in an instant, and out of the bed, and Evy whipped around to see him throwing himself towards Imhotep, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Without apparent hurry, he held up a hand and spoke.

“Be still.”

Ardeth halted as if he had run into a glass wall. Imhotep looked satisfied. 

“Bow.”

And to Evy’s complete surprise, Ardeth bowed.

“I told you, Medjai, you would serve me. I gave you the woman you love, and I took your obedience in return.”

“No!”

“Protest all you like, it will make no difference. My word, and my word alone, can free you. You are mine now, Medjai.”

Ardeth clenched his hands, but he made no more protests. Imhotep smiled and beckoned.

“Come.”

And Ardeth followed, giving Evy a last agonised glance before they were gone. As soon as she was sure she was alone, she wrapped a sheet around her and quietly padded out into the other room. It was abandoned, and on the altar, she spotted the ancient cup Imhotep had made them drink from the night before. Evy remembered what he had said about its properties and she went to pick it up. Turning it in her hand, she admired its beauty. The work was exquisite and, despite its age, flawless. Something like this would be coveted by museums and collectors alike.

A memory flashed through her and she saw Ardeth writhing under Imhotep, his face a mixture of anger and passion. Evy’s hand tightened around the cup. Beautiful, yes, but dangerous too. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see what she was about to do, and opened her hand. The cup fell from her fingers and she could hear it shatter against the stone floor. Then, without looking at what she had done, Evy hurried out of the room.

Outside Evy found two guards who, without a word, escorted her back to her prison. She declined to have anything to eat, though her stomach was growling. More than anything else she needed a bath, she felt stiff and very sore, and when she examined herself she found the night had left her with bruises after too eager hands. Imhotep’s hands; Ardeth had been nothing but gentle despite his spell-bidden desire. 

Despite it all, Evy smiled a little, Ardeth had been lovely. If only he had talked with her and Rick about his feelings. It wasn’t like they didn’t love him already. But then she shook her head. It was no use thinking of what could have been. Ardeth’s feelings- all their feelings, were not what was most important right now. 

A steaming bath soothed her aching body, but the ache inside her heart only grew. Evy knew she had allowed herself to get a bit too used to Imhotep’s company. On the whole, he had treated her well, and though Evy had never forgotten she was a prisoner, she had started to believe he would never willingly cause her harm. She had always known it was stupid, but it had made her imprisonment a little bit easier to stand. But last night had made it abundantly clear she knew nothing of Imhotep’s thoughts and very little of what he wanted 

Evy traced the outline of her bruises and more memories intruded, insisting on being replayed in her mind. Imhotep had made her do things she had never imagined she would do. Imhotep had used her to get what he wanted from Ardeth, and Evy shuddered when she thought of how Ardeth must feel right now. Of all the things Imhotep could have done to torture him with, nothing could be worse than forcing him into an obedient slave. 

Evy stayed in the bath for a long time and then went through her wardrobe for the most practical clothes she could find. She rolled her hair into a no-nonsense chignon, and when she looked in the mirror she saw Evy again, not a long-dead Egyptian princess. Then she went into her library and sat down to study the ancient scrolls Imhotep had given her. Unlikely as it was, there could still be something in them which could be used against him. And if there were, then she would find it.

Hours later she could hear someone enter her rooms, but it was not Imhotep as she had expected, but Ardeth. He was once again dressed in his customary many-layered clothes in black, and his beard had been groomed, but he was still weaponless. In his eyes, there was a quiet desperation so intense it hurt Evy to see it.

He went straight to her and then sank down on his knees, taking her hands and pressing them against his forehead.

“Forgive me.”

“Ardeth, please. Stand up.”

But he remained kneeling with his head bowed, and after a moment Evy kneeled too. She didn’t let go of his hands, but she tugged them away from his face so she could look him in the eye.

“There is nothing to forgive. It wasn’t your fault or mine, but all Imhotep’s doing.”

“It was. But before that, the Creature spoke the truth. I have had those thoughts, and for that, I’m deeply ashamed.”

“They may be true, but it doesn’t matter. Listen to me; they have no importance at all.”

“How can they not?”

Evy took a deep breath, trying to sort through her words to find the right ones to use. For a moment memories overwhelmed her. Her parents’ sudden death because of a careless car driver when Jonathan was in France, fighting an endless war, it seemed more and more likely he wouldn’t survive. She had been so alone, finding herself living with her father’s old aunt, who had never forgiven him for marrying an Egyptian woman, and who never had liked Evy by extension. The aunt had gleefully told her there wouldn’t be any more school now; that education was nothing women needed. It had not lasted, though for a few weeks Evy had wondered if life really was worth living. Then her father’s will made it abundantly clear her future education was already set up, and then Jonathan had been given a few weeks’ leave. He had calmly pointed out that it was he, not the aunt who was Evy’s legal guardian now and had made sure she went to stay with a school friend before it was time for university. And before long the war was over and Jonathan had survived. Most of him, at least; it took a while for Evy to realise that saving her from their evil aunt had been the last responsible thing her big brother ever willingly did.

Evy realised Ardeth was looking at her quizzically, and she pulled herself together to answer.

“When my parents died, it hurt so much I thought I would die too. And I hated the man who ran them over. I hated him so much I wanted to kill him. When I couldn’t sleep, I lay in bed in bed and made up the most gruesome ways I could imagine. I needed to think about it because it was the only thing that made some of the pain go away. But if he had been standing in front of me, I couldn’t have done it. It’s not who I am. Sometimes there’s no other way than to think of things we are ashamed of later. So what you thought- perhaps it was true in those short moments. But there is a much bigger truth; the truth which really matters. And that is that Rick is your friend and your brother, and you love him as much as he loves you.”

Ardeth closed his eyes, and for a moment the tension in his face eased away. “Yes, that is also true.” 

But then it was back, and he frowned. 

“Evy, there is more. I-”

“No, wait. I have something to tell you, something important.” She stood up and tugged at Ardeth’s hand. “Come, let’s speak outside where I know no one can hear us.”

When they stepped out into the garden Ardeth stopped for a moment and turned his head to the sky and took a deep breath. Evy was once again reminded of how much it must have tormented him to be locked up. She led him out to an open space before she spoke.

“Ardeth, I don’t think Imhotep is as strong as he once was; I’m sure he can be killed now. He was never meant to be resurrected over and over again, and I believe he loses a little of his power every time it happens. There were no plagues this time, and not the time before either. And then there’s this.”

Evy showed Ardeth the armlet and told him of the spell Imhotep had cast over her. Ardeth nodded.

“Yes, Rick will never be able to bring himself to kill the Creature if it brings harm to you.”

“But Rick doesn’t have to know. If there was some way he could find out Imhotep’s vulnerable, well, it wouldn’t be the first time he bested him.”

“But you would die too.”

Evy swallowed. “I don’t want to, but we must stop Imhotep. This is the only way.”

Ardeth looked pained, but he didn’t disagree. 

“See. We just have to figure out a way to get Rick to know.”

The pain in Ardeth’s eyes intensified. “Rick is in Egypt, only a few hours from here, and Jonathan and Alex are with him. The Creature told me.”

Evy started to speak but Ardeth raised his hand to stop her. “I have been given orders, Evy, and you will not be able to forgive me so readily now. I have been ordered to take Rick here- and then to kill him. And I can’t withstand his commands. Even now as I linger here, I can feel his words as claws raking through my mind.”

For a moment Evy felt like the ground had disappeared from under her feet, then she took a deep breath. Falling apart was a luxury she didn’t have. 

“Of course. It makes perfect sense for Imhotep to do that. He knows you are the only one who could match Rick. But can you do something for me?”

“Anything in my power.”

“Make sure Alex and Jonathan don’t come with you. Find some excuse, any excuse, to keep them away.

“I will, Evy, I promise.”

“You better go then.”

“Yes. Farewell Evy.”

Ardeth made to leave, but before he was gone, Evy ran after him.

“Wait!” She flung her arms around him, burying her face in the fine wool of his coat. After a moment, Ardeth embraced her back, his breath warm in her hair. Evy closed her eyes and clung to him, knowing this may be the last time they could ever have some comfort from each other. He was right, Evy could never forgive him if he killed Rick, however much she knew it wasn’t his fault.

They stood like that for several minutes, but then Ardeh gently detached himself and left without saying anything more, and Evy suddenly felt more alone than she had ever felt before.


End file.
